


waiting for...

by jerrycruncher



Category: Alexander Hamilton - Fandom, Lams - Fandom, Lin Manuel Miranda - Fandom
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-01
Updated: 2017-03-01
Packaged: 2018-09-27 14:44:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10026407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jerrycruncher/pseuds/jerrycruncher
Summary: Alexander Hamilton has just began his new, college student life at Columbia. But in between classes, crushes, cups of coffee, and his courage, Alexander is beginning to loose control. Maybe there's a million things he hasn't done--because he can't.





	

**Author's Note:**

> heyy hamfam(dom) i had some strange urge to write this and, as a try-hard, it turned out better than i thought loll. i have a lot of ideas, so stick around i guess

Holy guacamole.

Holy freaking guacamole.

Alexander was having a small panic attack. Well, a medium-sized panic attack, if we're being honest. Major life milestones were being crossed and his Über driver smelled of too much Axe and talked of the Brexit. It didn't help. 

Alexanders stomach knotted itself and his heart accelerated. He saw Columbia ahead, sending another massive wave of nerves throughout himself. He reached towards his backpack, unzipped the front pocket, and shuffled his hands around, blindly trying to find a gum pack. 

No luck. 

'Oh wait!' he thought to himself and quickly pulled up some minty Trident. Empty. Alexander sighed. 

"Where do you want me to stop? Is here good?" His Über asked. Alexander forgot his name. Was it Scott? Simon? 

"Uh, actually, could you drop be off at the block ahead?" Alexander replied as he peered through the windows. 

"Yeah, man."

Alexander checked the Über app. The guy's name was Samuel. The car pulled up at the entrance. Alexander grabbed his backpack and got out the car, "Thank you for the ride." He moved to the back of the car to get his luggage. 

"Oh, lemme do that," Samuel got out of the car to help. Well, at least he's nice, Alexander thought. (Samuel's views on the Brexit didn't quite match with Alexander's, causing a bit of judgement.)

Samuel grabbed two luggages and hauled them with Alexander to the dorm entrance. "I can deal from here," Alexander smiled. "Thanks, again."

"No problem," Samuel replied and walked back to his car. Alexander rated him four stars. He was trying to be nice. 

Alexander took a deep breath and entered the dorm building. 

____________________________________ 

It was eh. The dorm was eh. It wan't too small. It had two windows, which Alexander was grateful for. The desks we're a bit low and the bed wasn't very comfortable, so he planned for a bit of back pain. 

What Alexander was most concerned about in the matter, was the roommate--who wasn't there when he arrived. But, his stuff was there, a lot of it. A few items we're unpacked, but Alexander had no hints to the guy's personality, besides a few notebooks and a small speaker. 

Alexander decided to start moving in, since it was most logical. He had just begun opening his second luggage, when he heard multiple chuckles outside of the half-opened door. He turned around.

There were two boys standing there. One was tall, darker skinned, and had curly hair in a manbun. His style was simple: jeans, converse, and a Columbia jumper. He had a big laugh--the dramatic kind, where they through their head back and let loose. 

The other boy was a smidge shorter than the first, but seemingly bigger than Alexander. He also had curly hair, but his was down, framing his freckled face. Alex guessed he was Hispanic or Latino. The boy had on black jeans, some sneakers, and a t-shirt with a band Alexander had never heard of. But, he could admit, both boys were devilishly handsome. 

The freckled boy stepped forward, noticing Alexander. "Ah, man, you must be the roommate! I'm John; John Laurens." 

"Hey, I'm Alexander," Alex extended his hand and John shook it, "Nice to meet you." 

"Same. This is Gilbert, by the way, but we call him "Marquis" because he's full of himself," John gestured to the other boy, who also reached out for a handshake. 

"Bonjour." His pronunciation was smooth; undoubtedly native. 

"Salut. Êtes-vous Français?" Alexander responded, a bit vain of his skill. 

"Oui!" He responded quite excitedly, "You know French? Oh, I like you!" 

John groaned, "Not another one!" 

Alexander and Marquis laughed. "Vous ne parlez pas Français?" Alexander asked.

"Un peu," John answered. "Stick to English; it's now a rule," He comically demanded. 

"Okie dokie artichokie," Alexander had no intention of obeying.

A ding was heard from a phone and Marquis reached in his pocket and looked at his screen, "Hercules wants to know if we've got our books already. He wants to get the rest of his and some burritos." 

John answered, "I have two more to buy, so I'm in. Alexander, wanna join us?"

"I have all my books, but yeah I could go for burritos," This was good. Making friends already and his roommate was chill. Alexander felt accomplished. 

"Okay, then." Marquis texted Hercules back, "I'll drive." he offered. 

____________________________________ 

Marquis had a nice ass car. A black Tesla with a white interior and some massive sun roof. It screamed wealth. 

"Haha, Marquis here comes from the elites--which explains his title. His family are some big-shots in France, wiping their asses with them Euro dollars," John explained, while messing with radio. 

"Don't speak about my relatives that way, you poubelle américaine," Marquis shot back, "And yeah, Alexander, I'm only here because they think I need to do something with my wits." 

"What are you studying?" Alexander asked. 

"Political Science," Marquis shrugged, not seeming to care what he studied, "What about you?" 

"Law," Alexander answered. "I sound like a nerd, but it's a passion of mine." 

"Yo! Me too!" John yelled.

"Really?"

"Yeah! No, not the passion part. I wanna be a doctor. But my dad, the Senator of South Carolina, had other plans for his prodigy son, so here I am!" John sneered his father's title. 

"Your father is the Senator of South Carolina?" Alexander repeated, shocked. Hopefully, it didn't sound too negative, but that guy was an ass. Major conservative. Major problem. 

"Yep!" John responded, "The Henry Laurens. But, don't get scared away. Honestly, I agree with very little he stands for." Phew. Alexander was relieved. 

"We're here!" Marquis pulled up in front a Chipotle, "Alright, get out." 

Once the three found Hercules and got their orders, they sat down at a table, near the entrance and began eating. Hercules was a shorter guy, but his arms were huge. He was black and hella funny. A sophomore who planned to open a business, selling androgynous clothes ("It's gunna be bigger than Yeezy."). Alexander liked him. 

"So where are you from, Alexander?" Hercules took another massive bite of his food. 

Alexander hated this question, "Honestly, I'm from the Caribbean." 

They all looked shocked, "No fucking way," John stated. 

"Yeah, really. I'm from this small island by the name of Nevis." 

"Damn, that's hella cool," Hercules complimented, "I'm from here. Kinda boring." 

"France, obvi," Marquis informed. 

"S.C. Born and raised," John said before standing up to toss out his burrito bowl. He had a cute ass. 

"What do you think about New York?" Marquis asked, "You know what they say: 'In New York you can be a new man.'" 

That line was also uncomfortably close home, "It smells, the subway's a joke, and everything is so noisy. But honestly," he lifted a brow and looked at Marquis, "J'aime ça." 

Suddenly, Hercules's eyes flew up and watched someone walk in. He frowned and sighed, "Thing 1 has got himself a new Thing 2," He muttered. 

Alexander turned around to look, which was admittedly kinda dumb, since it made his staring quite obvious. A dapper looking man, with a deep purple shirt and some slacks was walking toward the line alongside another man, this one a bit shorter and wearing tight jeans and gray hoodie--which he the noticed Alexander staring, smirked, and whispered in the tall guy's guy's ear. Now, both their judging eyes observed him. 

"Turn around. Stop staring," John instructed, now back in his seat. Alex obliged. 

"In the purple: Thomas Jefferson. In the gray: James Maddison." Hercules informed, "And in the school: Dickheads." 

"What'd they do to get earn the title?" Alexander asked. Both John and Marquis seemed to not know much about this either, so they leaned in, thirsty for some gossip.

"Well, all the decent people think they're dickheads, but a ton of people actually like them. First off, they're both filthy rich--" 

"Hey!" Both Marquis and John protested against their stereotype. 

"--the bad kind," Hercules finished, "Thomas is a conservative with disgusting beliefs, goes through friends like they're tissues, and has dirt on everybody. That's why his hair is so big--it's full of secrets." 

"Wait, what?" John reacted, "Did you just quote Mean Girls?" 

"Yes. But the statement work perfectly with the situation," Hercules defended. 

"And James?" Marquis asked.

"James and I were chill last year. I didn't know he hung out with Thomas. That again, I didn't know much about him, we only had one class together and a few mutual friends. He's a Law major and an English minor--just like Jefferson. They also came from the same school in Virginia and both know Latin and Greek, as well. They're too alike." 

There was tension in the air, causing Alexander to lose his appetite. Glances were shares between the two groups and it was clear that Thomas and James were discussing the four of them, just the same. All four men seemed to want to leave, so they got up, threw out their trash, and walked toward the door. Alexander's movements were abrubt and awkward--he felt on edge. He noticed Marquis acting briskily, while Hercules seemed to take his time, not really caring if anything started. John practically ran out of the Chiptole, muttering something about how he didn't like things that messed with his "mellow". Alexander was just about to exit with Marquis hot on his heels when a velvety voice called out, "Au revior, mon amie." 

Alexander couldn't tell who said it because Marquis quickly rushed him out to the humid, late summer air and to his parked car. The four climbed in and headed toward the bookstore, forcing Alexander in a confused haze.


End file.
